Let's Start Something New
by stuckatschool
Summary: At the end of the day, Her family wasn't enough. But maybe he could be.


**I'm really trying to write something cute and fluffy for these two. This is the best i could get because Violet and Tate aren't normal and cute. **

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><p>Time had a funny way of moving.<p>

Violet realized this 6 months after dying.

Sometimes, she would get up in the morning and feel like going outside for a couple of minutes. She would head downstairs, through the back door, only to find that it was the middle of the night when she finally reached the gazebo. She would wonder where she had been for so many hours, but decided not to dwell on it.

Other times, minutes would drag on for days, making her slowly go crazy until invisible hands pulled her back from the edge of insanity.

Violet figured that this is how it would be, death and being a ghost. But her comfort was that she didn't have to suffer alone.

Her mother had slowly helped her rebuild their relationship. They weren't best friends, or ' gal pals' but they were beginning to act like mother and daughter again. They talked about random things, supported each other when they were down, Vivian was even teaching her how to play cello.

Violet also helped with her baby brother. She sang him to sleep when he cried and made faces so he would laugh. And in the quiet hours of the night, when the spirits of the house seemed to settle down for their own version of piece, Violet would hold her brother, cooing and kissing him, and allow herself to believe that she would have made a good mother.

Even her and Ben were getting along better. They would talk about life and death and everything in between. Or even just sit in comfortable silence, reading. Then, he would ruin it by asking her why she did it. Or even worse, why she allowed herself to fall into HIS act.

She would then stand up and slam her way out of the room. Sure, she could just disappear, but that didn't really let out her anger.

Still.

Her mother's hugs weren't the soft embrace around her waist in the middle of the night.

Her chats with Ben weren't the hour long rants on how the world is full of bull-shitters and how she was the only one worth it.

At the end of the day,

Her family wasn't enough.

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><p>At one time, she could just slit her wrists. She could watch the blood pour from her wounds and feel the world wash down the red stained drain. It used to be enough to let the razor glide across her skin and feel the rush of relief spread throughout her whole body.<p>

But now, nothing was enough to sooth her racing mind and aching heart.

Not a blade to her body, a gun to her temple, a rope to her neck. Nothing.

Well, maybe not nothing.

When she remembers his touch on her hips and the way his fingers would slid down to her thigh, a blush raises over her skin.

She can almost feel his lips dancing across her neck, almost see those deep, endless eyes locking onto hers, and she lets out a moan.

And it's not even the psychical stuff that, when she thinks about it, makes her heart skip a beat and her mind slow.

It's the days before she died. The days when they were still getting to know either other, what they have in common and what made them different. Even the days when they fought, because it ended up making her fall in love with him that much more.

She doesn't ever see him around, and she know it's because he loves her and just wants to make her happy. And while, at first, she was happy she didn't have to worry about seeing him. It made trying to heal her broken heart easier. But after 6 years of silence, she wanted to see him. Talk to him. Touch him, if only to make sure he wasn't some kind of delusion.

" Tate?" she said into the empty space of her room. She counted the seconds with the loud heartbeat booming in her ears.

After 8 beats, she tried again.

"Tate, I want to see you"

Nothing.

Suddenly, she could feel panic enveloping her mind. He usually came when she called. Where was he?

" Tate. . .please" she whispered.

The room felt a bit colder. She whipped her body around, only to come face- to face with the ghost boy.

" Yes Violet?" he whispered back, as if afraid to break the moment.

Carefully, she slid her hand down his cheek, and then smiled at him.

Tate's eyes lit up as he started to smile back, but his expression turned into a painful grimace as a stinging sensation took over his face,

He brought his cool hand to his face to sooth the burn.

" Don't give me that look, you deserved that" Violet said.

Tate glared at her

" Did you call me just to slap me or is there something else I can do for you?" he asked, venom lacing his voice.

Violet shifted uncomfortably.

" I just. . . Wanted to see you. I didn't intend to hit you. I guess 6 years of playing hide and seek with you must have caused some violent issues in me. Go figure." she explained.

Tate's eyes softened and he stepped closer to her.

" So. Did you finally want to talk about this?" he asked.

Violent pushed him away.

" I did. But seeing you again just pisses me off" she said, turning away from him.

Tate let out a frustrated sigh.

" Violet, come on. Can't we go back to before?" he asked, clearly frustrated.

The blond girl turned around quickly, fire in her eyes.

" Tate, I wish we could go back. Go back 6 years ago ,when you were my dad's cute psycho patient, and I was a native _alive_ teenager. When we were happy and in love." she yelled, her voice cracking at the end.

Tate looked just as upset.

" What are we now?" he prodded her softly.

Violet look into his deep brown eyes.

" You're a desperate, sad and lonely serial killer and I'm an angry, lonely and broken dead girl" she answered.

The blond boy looked at her.

" I love you Violet"

The bitter teenager scoffed.

" Yeah. I've heard that before"

Tate stepped closer to her.

" I am sorry Violet."

This time she let out a laugh

" You've said that before too. Tell me something new"

The next step Tate took brought him right into Violet's face.

" I raped your mother"

The air in the room stilled and the tension grew thick.

Violet stated at him with wide eyes.

" I. . I know that" she stuttered.

Tate shook his head

" I know. But I've never told you that. I have never admitted it to you. I want you to know that I know what I did was terrible and wrong and I'm sorry."

" It doesn't fixed things" she said, her voice thick with tears. " But. . . It's a start"

Tate laced one hand through her hair and placed another upon her waist. He tipped her head forward and lean in so their breaths were mingling.

" I don't want you to be lonely anymore" he said, his eyes drifting close.

" I'm sick of being alone Tate."

That's all he needed to hear before crushing their mouths together. Hands grabbed fistfuls of clothes , legs lead them to her old bed where their bodies tangled together until their was no telling where they began and ended.

Violet pulled away first. She pressed their foreheads together as took deep breaths.

" Tate, we can't be what we were. I can't forgive what you did. And I can't forget either." she said sadly.

" I know. I'm willing to do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. Please Violet. I just want you again" he said.

Violet sat up on the bed.

" Let's just work on being friends for now then," she proposed, smoothing out her floral skirt.

Tate grabbed her hand. He stared up at her with a happy smile.

" Friends. . . With benefits?" he asked hopefully.

Violet leaning underneath her bed and grabbed her cigarettes. After carefully lighting it, she leaned her head against her headboard.

" Baby steps Tate." she said with a smirk.

For the rest of the day, they laid on her bed just enjoying each others company. And for the first time in a while, it was finally enough.

**Thank you for reading :3**


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